Of Whiskey and Ribbons
by QueenPalkia
Summary: Haymitch Abernathy, just your regular drunk. Quarter Quell victor, District 12 resident. One day he learns the true consequences of drinking: he discovers he's adopted a little girl. The Hunger Games pale in comparison to this challenge! *Post-ending.
1. Worst Hangover Ever

**Why, hello there, doll. If you know me, you're probably glad to know I'm writing something OTHER than pokémon. AMEN TO THAT. And new readers, I'm glad to meet ya. Hope you enjoy my style. Humor is my strong point, but it's my first time writting something that doesn't fit in the Adventure genre. I've made this for the enjoyment of the fans of the HG series, and I can satisfy your needs. **

**So, here is my first Hunger Games fanfic! As the summary says, this is about Haymitch's new family member, an idea that belongs to my best friend. Originally, she was gonna do her fic first so that it wouldn't look like I was stealing her idea, which I'm not, our plots are totally different, but to this date she hasn't written a single word and I've had this thing saved for over a week, so I've published. Sorry, dear Phoenix. **

**Warnings: Post-ending, spoilers and swearing. Lots of swearing. **

**LET THE GAMES BEGIN!**

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><p><strong>Of Whiskey and Ribbons<strong>

**Chapter I**

_**Worst. Hangover. Ever. **_

I feel like crap. My head hurts and my throat is burning. Last night is a total blur, which isn't a surprise. Now I have to crawl out of bed because my bottle is empty. Maybe I'll begin the day with some whiskey.

I groan as I sit up. The damaged clock on the wall reads three. "That's odd," I mutter to no one in particular. Usually, if I'm not up by noon, either Peeta or Katniss, preferably the boy because afterwards he makes me cookies, comes to dump cold water on me. Since that's yet to happen, I conclude there must be only one reason. Katniss is having weird cravings. Again.

I'm just done dumping last night's dinner into the toilet when I hear something. It sounds like a giggle, but it could be just my head ringing. My ears have never been very reliable during my hangovers. I drag myself out of the bathroom after a quick, cold shower, something I've been forced to add to my routine by the _lovely_ couple next door.

I don't want any lunch, not like I can cook, anyway. I slump on the couch, ready to spend the rest of the day suffering a hangover. Just how much did I drink last night? And how did I end up in that going-out outfit? I must've climbed onto bed right away.

The cushion provides little comfort for my head. I groan. And then there's a noise again. Another giggle. And it's closer, louder. It's totally my head. Just my throbbing head. Totally just the alcohol messing with me.

When I open my eyes, I feel them widen. I see a child, tiny, with dark skin, entering the hallway bathroom. It's gone in seconds, and I rub my temples. Now my mind is creating images. But that can't be right, because when I open them again, I see the kid entering my room with a piece of toilet paper stuck to its shoe. I hear the door close, and my breathing quicken.

I spring to my feet and run to the phone. I dial the only number I've bothered to memorize in the last few years.

"Afternoon, Haymitch. Did you sleep well?" Peeta asks. I notice he sounds tired, probably after another restless night of cooking bizarre things for his wife. Yet, he never rejects a conversation.

"Boy, I just woke up and I think there's a kid in here."

"Drunk already, are you? Didn't you just get up?" he laughs lightly, and I feel like crushing the phone in my hand. For the love of…I've learned to stay sober in the afternoon! And it took years of practice to pull it off!

"I am not drunk! I swear I saw and heard a kid!" I growl. Just as I do, the dark skinned kid walks casually into the kitchen, grabs a lollipop from the candy jar under the sink, and walks away humming a tune. My head feels like exploding now! "It just took a lollipop!"

"Calm down, you must be hallucinating," Peeta reassures. "What'd you have last night? White liquor, wine, vodka?"

"I don't remember. It's blurry," I groan. I seriously can't think about last night with the image of the kid still fresh in my mind. _You're hallucinating, _I tell myself. _No brat could make it into your house and live. _

"Well, maybe you should come over," he invites me, but I know he just wants me there for support, not to help me. Fortunately for him, I'm so freaked out about the hallucinations that I think handling Katniss will be a lot better than staying here. "My mother-in-law can whip up something for you. I'll see if she's-"

"Peeta Mellark, who are you talking to?" Katniss bellows from wherever she is, loud enough for me to hear clearly. I don't need to see to know Peeta's flinched. "Is she **_pretty_**?"

"No, no, honey, I'm talking to Hay-"

"So she's _not_ pretty? YOU TWO-TIMER! I bet she's _loaded_!"

I hear a thud, probably Peeta being shoved into the wall. The phone hangs in the air for a millisecond before the beast picks up.

"Who _**the fuck **_is this?"

"It's Hayley," I say in a faked girly tone. Even the effort makes my throat burn, but this is about as amusing as my day can get, so I pull it off. "You must be Peeta's mother. A pleasure!"

"Listen, bitch. When I find out where you live, I will _mutilate _you in every way possible for corrupting my sweet, sweet Peeta!" Now, Katniss is crying dramatically.

"Sure, come get me in District Five. I live just next to the Justice Building, and remember my name is Hayley!" I hang up afterwards, too satisfied to worry about anything else. Soon, I hear a door slamming, and rush to the window above the sink. I can see an infuriated Katniss walking into the street with Peeta following behind. I open the window.

"I'm going to kill her! I will mutilate her!"

"Honey, there is no Hayley. That was just Haymitch being an _ass_!" Peeta tries to explain. I breathe in satisfying fresh air. "Come back inside. I'll make you cookies."

I don't hear an answer. In fact, she's not standing there anymore. Neither is Peeta. And then they're knocking on my door. _Great, _I think, _company. _I forgot to lock it last night, so they storm in like they own the place. Peeta slumps on the couch, apparently giving up, and Katniss marches up to me.

"Not funny, Haymitch. Do you think it's easy dealing with these mood swings?" Katniss glares at me, then motions to her body. She's dressed in an oversized shirt, probably Peeta's, that reads 'Want fries…' on the front and obviously says '…with this shake?' on the back, wrinkled shorts, and surprisingly new sandals. Her dark hair looks tangled, like she just got out of bed. I don't doubt that. To top off this _beautiful_ image, there's her bulging stomach indicating she's five months into pregnancy. "They're not healthy for the child," she says.

Her voice, and all other noise, gives me a headache. Everything is ten times louder, so painfully louder. I try to tune everything out, but even so, I hear that high pitched voice clearly ask, "Papa Haymitch?"

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><p><strong>Lame first chapter is lame. But hey! I had to make it short. If you start a fic with a long chapter, you're screwed, because the rest of your chaps will be expected to be long. I usualy write long ones. But not this time. The smaller they are, the faster I'm done!<strong>

**Hope you liked it! Chapter two is ready for publishing, but won't be up until I receive at least 2 reviews. Be kind :3 Also, I need your honest opinion: should I raise this to M? It's got heavy swearing and alchohol use, so it qualifies. Plus some content that I'll add later on (NO, NO LEMONS FOR YOU, DARLINGS). **

**By the way, I'm fully aware Haymitch yanked off his phone long ago. But hey, it's been years, so in my fic, he has a new phone. Doesn't use it much but still. I'm sticking to canon as much as possible. I even have a strict rule of keeping everyone in character, so if you like that, good. **

**Flames will be used to roast my marshmallows. Farla will be ignored. So please, R & R!**

**ALL HAIL DA QUEEN!**


	2. Katniss Makes Me Laugh

**Hello again, dears :D First, a big hug to you who reviewed! Allow me to answer you now so I don't have to PM you each. I'm lazy. Very, very lazy. 4darwin, kopycat101, fludernutter01, and GunRecon 11! Oh, and of course, Sasuka :D **

**kopycat101: I'm going to reveal that soon. For now, I can assure you it's not the kid of any character we know. And totally not Haymitch's daughter. But you'll see. Oh, and about Katniss: yes, yes she is. I've been dying to write pregnant Katniss! Poor Peeta's gotta put up with that xP**

**SasukaKira: School's been tought D: Luckily, I've got a whole week off after tomorrow. And I'm glad you read the HG series! I totally LOVED it, and like you, I finished it in a week xD We're quick. I was also disappointed that he didn't fall off the stage in the movie...but Haymitch was still hilarious! The audience loved him. BTW, I sent you an email MONTHS AGO, but you never answered! **

**fludernutter01: Yes, right away. I HAVE DONE WHAT YOU HAVE ASKED. **

**Okay, comments on the actual fic are on the bottom AN. Anyway, enjoy chap 2!**

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><p><strong>Of Whiskey and Ribbons<strong>

**Chapter II**

_**Katniss Makes Me Laugh**_

"Papa Haymitch?" There's the source of my confusion, with those big eyes staring into my very soul. Like a horror movie.

"You see the kid too, right?" I hide behind Katniss, staring wide-eyed at the dark skinned girl staring up at us. Katniss nods slightly. "So, I'm not hallucinating?"

"I don't think it's a figment of your imagination," Katniss mutters. We're frozen in place. The little girl's big green eyes are boring into mine, as if staring into my very soul. I don't like it. Don't like this one bit. Wonder what this kid is doing here.

"Um…lady? Why's your tummy so large?" an innocent question comes from her. She can't be older than five. No taller than three feet. No child of a District 12 resident.

Katniss dislikes the question and is immediately pissed. "Are you implying that I'm fat?" She says, inhaling deeply to control herself. The little girl frowns and looks down.

"Sorry, lady. I didn't mean to," she sniffles. I'm about to curse, because I know she'll start crying. I'm not good at comforting. Especially when it comes to kids. So, in comes Peeta to save the day.

"She's adorable!" Peeta says, suddenly appearing beside me. "Hey, doll," he squats down to make eye contact with the kid, though she's looking down. "You're not a hallucination, are you?" He pokes her lightly in the stomach and she giggles. This man, this annoying man, this ridiculously charming bastard has a way with words. "My name is Peeta. What's yours?"

The kid puts her hands behind her back and thinks. Seriously? Do all little kids need to think to remember their names? "Aretta," she says.

So now we know her name, which isn't exactly helpful. It just proves that I'm not crazy and the kid is real. That makes things worse. I feel like someone's hammering my brain from the inside.

"I need to lie down," I groan and rub my temples. I retreat to my room, surprised that nobody tried to keep me back there. I throw the covers over my head and grab the bottle of whiskey beside my nightstand. After it's empty, I fall asleep.

When I wake up, I can't remember if I had any dreams. All I know is that the little girl Aretta is staring right at me, sitting on my chest, her nose inches from mine. With that huge smile on her face, she freaks me out, and I start. I'm on the floor tangled in my sheets, hearing her giggles as she bounces on my bed. Then I'm angry. Furious.

Just as I reach for my knife to scare the kid, just scare her, really, a fork flies out of nowhere, passes right between my knife and my hand, and ends stuck right on the wall. My heart just skipped a beat.

"Haymitch, we need to talk." Katniss shouts from the doorway, baring a spoon, a butter knife, and another fork in her hand. She motions me outside.

"Alright, alright, sweetheart," I groan, trying to free myself of these blasted covers. It takes about five whole minutes, while the girl giggles at me, no less. This is not my day. I make it out to the living room, not caring about leaving the girl in a room that reeks of liquor. Well, to me, the smell is completely normal. I don't mind.

I sit with Katniss at the round lunch table. Peeta's in the kitchen wearing his apron cooking lunch for everyone. Said apron is light green with the picture of a strawberry cupcake among smaller ones, looking quite smug, and under it reads: 'Cupcakes may be sweet, but not all are tiny' Oh, the double-sense…

"Well, what do you want to tell me, sweetheart? Thought of how to get rid of the brat?" I ask. She frowns and shakes her head.

"This may be hard on you," she grabs my hands, "so you must be strong." I perk a brow, and she inhales deeply. "Haymitch," I should slap her for taking so long to answer one simple question. "Aretta is your daughter."

I burst out laughing. It's been some time since she's told me something funny. "That's a good one, sweetheart! I needed a laugh," I say. But Katniss isn't smiling.

"It's no joke. The girl, Aretta, is your daughter," she continues. "Apparently, you adopted her last night."

"Not funny," I growl. "Quit messing with me."

"Lunch is ready!" Peeta chirps from the kitchen. He brings us plates and silverware, a juice pouch for Katniss, and beer for me. He serves the food as Katniss glares at me. "It'll get cold. _Eat_," Peeta glowers at us, because he hates people wasting his food, and starts eating from the pot like no one's looking.

I eat whatever's on my plate, which isn't enough to replace the taste of liquor from my mouth. Katniss finishes quickly. Too quickly. She has skills. "Alright," she says after cleaning the table and sitting back down. "Consult it with the pillow. Darline will be home from school soon so Peeta and I are leaving. I'll be back tomorrow to check on your _daughter_."

"That joke is so ten minutes ago," I scoff. "Take the kid, will you?" I shout. Peeta's already outside and Katniss just rolls her eyes at me from the doorway.

"Goodbye, Haymitch," she slams the door, and my neighbors conclude their visit. I look at the clock. It's six. Hazelle was supposed to be here eight hours ago, but I really don't mind if she took the day off. Not like the house is too dirty. She works here every weekday.

The house is silent. Maybe those two really took the kid with them. Maybe my day will get better. I'm used to lone nights at home. Just me and a few bottles. Sometimes, though, I go out, to the store, to a friend's house, to the bar. _The bar, _I think. This morning, I woke up wearing my going-out attire. Shoes and everything. Did I go out to the bar last night? And just how much did I drink? I don't remember a thing, yet I've had way worse hangovers.

I spend a couple of hours trying to hit an old target on the wall with my knife. Peeta put it there years ago for me to practice in case I was chosen at the reaping for the Quarter Quell, but I've only managed to get a bull's-eye twice. I keep throwing and drinking until I hear tiny footsteps. My knife ends up stuck to the wall just two inches from the face of the little girl.

She holds back a scream. Becomes sweaty. I stare at her, disappointed. Katniss and Peeta really left me to deal with this; those selfish bastards. I'm completely tired of running from this insignificant child, of trying to avoid dealing with the problem. So I get up, retrieve my knife, and toss a napkin her way to wipe that sweat from her face.

"Okay, look," I start, sitting and putting my hands on my thighs. "I don't know who you are, or why you're here, but it's clear you don't plan on leaving," I say, and the girl nods. "So we'll do this: you will sleep here, eat my food, and use my water. And tomorrow, I'm finding explanations. Got it?" The girl seems to be trying hard to understand me, but that's normal. I simplify a little. "Go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow."

She nods. "Okay!"

"What was your name again? Agatha, Amy, something?" I'm sure it starts with an A.

"Aretta," she states slowly, pronouncing loud and clear with pride. Well, it's not as bad as I thought it was.

After that, I lead the little Aretta down the hallway to an empty bedroom that I would say is for guests, but nobody wants to stay over with me. Not like I care. The bedroom is still clean thanks to my housekeeper. It consists of a single bed, a wardrobe, closet, a tall lamp, a ceiling fan, pallid walls, and one round window.

I beat the dusty, green covers against the bed and replace the pillow case for a fresh one. "Okay, hop in," I say. But the little girl is too short, and despite all her stretching, she can't get on the bed. Then she looks at me, pouting, and extends her arms toward me, begging me to help her up. I sigh in exasperation and lift her up.

At her request, I'm tuck her in. She asks me for a glass of water, to turn on a nightlight so that the monsters will stay away, which is hilarious, and tells me to make sure the closet door is shut tight. Because apparently monsters hide there. However, I'm too tired and annoyed to assure her the only monster she has to worry about will be knocked out in a few minutes after a nice, cold beer.

I'm done. Everything is set for annoying little Aretta to fall asleep. I'm at the door, about to flip the light switch, when I catch her stare, and she makes the most ridiculous request so far.

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><p><strong>Lame cliffhanger is lame.<strong>

**Okay, so first off, remember this is post-Mockingjay, before the epilogue, so spoilers will be everywhere. However, in canon, 15 years passed before Katniss and Peeta had a kid. In my fic, I'm reducing that time, not because that'd make them old (32 is young), but because Haymitch would be WAY too old for this to work! In the series, he's 39 years old. After the epilogue, he's over 50, maybe 60! Nope. Couldn't work. So, t****he ages are different here! It took Peeta only 4 years to convince Katniss to have kids! Here, their daughter is five years old, and their son, well, ._. So, Haymitch is now 48.**

**That's all I have to say, because I don't like my author's notes being too long. More info coming next time! Again, thank you for reviewing, I love you all, especially Sasuka! :D So, yeah. I will update chapter 3 after 3 more reviews...and after I write it. Yup. ****R&R!**

**ALL HAIL DA QUEEN!**


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